Under the Rising Sun
by Cap10
Summary: I use to think that my peoples' resilience made us able to survive the worst disaster that elements could throw at us...March 11, 2011 changed everything. Dedicated to the victims of the Great East Japan Earthquake and Tsunami.
1. Part 1: Nightfall

_**Author's Note**__- Last March I was lucky enough to go to Japan for an agricultural exchange program. During the time I was in Japan I experienced several earthquakes, two of which were considered aftershocks of the Great East Japan Earthquake. These earthquakes allowed me to ask my Japanese student hosts about how the mega-quake had changed their lives. I was told about power outages and limited indoor heating, I learned about food shortages and their fear of radiation… but most of all, I learned about the many people who lost friends and relatives to this disaster. As I flew back to the United States, I realized I really needed to write a story about the Japanese spirit in the wake of the disaster. _

_I put the story on the backburner for a year, but about a month ago, I was contacted by one of the friends I made on my trip to Japan. In her email she explained she wanted to do something special in remembrance of her sister who was killed in the tsunami. In life, her sister was very fond of series Hetalia, and she felt a fanfiction would be a fitting gift in honor of her sister. Unfortunately, my friend did not feel comfortable writing it herself. Upon her request, I have frantically been working to complete this story by the second anniversary of the Great East Japan Earthquake. I only hope this story can do justice to my friend's request. _

_**Dedication-**__ To victims and the survivors... We do our best to remember the brightness of the lives lost and support those who were left behind. _

_**Disclaimer**__- I do not own Hetalia, nor do I own Japan or any of the other countries in this piece. Also, I need to give credit to the numerous interviewees, lectures, exhibits, and books which gave me details on how people felt in the aftermath of this disaster. Any errors in the facts of this story are purely due to my own failings._

* * *

**Part 1- Nightfall**

* * *

There have been times in my history that I have feared my nation was cursed. The islands of Japan are beautiful places, but they are dotted with the wreckage of hundreds of natural disasters. My people have become accustom to our way of life. Children are taught not to fear the earthquake… parents become desensitized to the tsunami… communities learn to thrive in the shadow of volcanoes. We like to think that our resilience makes us able to survive the worst disaster that elements could throw at us. March 11, 2011 changed everything.

After the earthquake, the first thing I remembered was looking up through plum blossoms at a partly clouded sky. The sun shone brightly down on me, but the air was still clinging to the last chill of winter. The ominous clouds I could see out of the corner of my eye told me a spring rain was on its way…

I blinked and tried to remember. I knew that I had spent the morning at Komazawa University attending a meeting about some of Japan's newest archeological finds. I had taken a brief lunch with two of the professors before boarding a train on the Tōkyū Den-en-toshi line. The train had just pulled into the Shibuya Station when I felt the ground below my nation rupture and the sea off my coast boil…

I blinked again to figure out where I was. The ancient plum tree arching above me helped give me a crucial key. There were only a few places in the heart of the thriving city of Tokyo which had such old trees. I assumed that in the aftermath of the earthquake, I must have stumbled out of the car and walked the several blocks to the Shinjuku Gyoen…

I tried to move my head, but discovered that the muscles refused to move. The whole upper part of my body was practically paralyzed. I took a deep breath and felt my lungs expand with a sharp, piercing pain. I coughed and tasted the metallic flavor of blood. I tried to breathe again, but blood bubbled instead.

As my vision grayed, I saw a young person leaning over me. My vision was so blurry that I couldn't tell if they were male or female, but I could pick out the uniform of a medical orderly. I tried to open my mouth, to tell them the hospital I needed to be taken to, to let them know that they needed to let the Prime Minister know about my condition… I never got the chance.

The last thing I knew was the ground once again rolling beneath me and the sharp spice of plum blossoms.

* * *

By the time I awoke, night had fallen. The hospital room I was in was lit by dim emergency lighting. Outside the room's large picture window, I could see a few lit buildings. For a couple moments, I assumed another massive quake must have hit Tokyo and that much of my capital city had been demolished while I was unconscious. My heart began to race in panic. I closed my eyes, trying to feel the damage, and I realized that Tokyo had survived the disaster relatively unscathed. The darkness was caused by damage to the electrical grid. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Honda-sama…"

I opened my eyes to see my secretary Tanaka Miko standing over me with concern visible on her face. I tried to open my mouth to speak, but my vocal cords refused to make a sound. I ended up motioning towards Miko-san's ever present phone.

"You are not well enough," my secretary countered.

"You probably should give it to him. Having a chest tubes can uncomfortable for the patient. Being able to communicate would probably help him relax." The comment came from a man in his mid-forties that I hadn't even realized was in the room. I assumed that he was the doctor. Miko-san glared at him, but followed his advice and handed me her cell.

_How long have I been unconscious?_

"Not too long." Miko-san said. She chewed on her lip before glancing at her watch. "Nine, maybe, ten hours…"

_How bad is it?_ I typed into the phone and then handed it to my secretary.

"Your injuries were quite significant." The doctor stepped in and I had to keep myself from cringing. "One of your fractured ribs slipped and punctured your left lung. You had surgery this afternoon to correctly repair the lung and a full recovery is expected."

_Does he know?_ I typed pointedly.

"Yes, he has been briefed."

_Good. _I closed my eyes for a moment and then started to texting at high speed. _I need as much information as possible on the condition of the country. I know we have experienced a major earthquake off of the northeast coast of Honshu and that the movement of the sea floor created a massive tsunami. I know that the eastern coasts of Hokkaido, Shikoku, Kyushu, and Okinawa have all been affected, but as long as you have me on a high dose of opiates, I am not going to be able to determine true extent of the damage. _

"Are you sure that you are in well enough? Your medical condition right now is delicate..." I raised my hand to cut the doctor off.

_My medical condition is caused by the current events. Understanding what is going on will not change my prognosis. _I typed quickly, allowing my impatience to show.

"The scientists are already saying that this is the worst natural disaster our nation has experienced in over two hundred years." Miko-san was the one to speak up. "The initial aerial photographs seem to indicate that many cities were severely damaged, and some towns no longer exist."

_What is being done?_

"At this point, no one knows what to do. There will be no way to understand the scale of the damage until light. Before then, it would be foolish to put the rescuers in danger charging into the situation blind." The doctor stated bitterly.

_Has nothing been done for my people?_

"There are plenty of things," my secretary said quietly, but she refused to look me in the eyes.

_Miko-san, this is not the time for sugar-coating the situation._

My secretary tried to repair the mistake and give me a decent briefing on the condition of my country, but it was pretty clear that she didn't have any real information. At some point I mostly tuned her out. Instead of listening I started trying to feel my various regions. Many, like Hokkaido and Chubu, were shaken up and bruised. Kyushu seemed untouched, while Kanto was badly injured… I couldn't feel Tohoku… I cannot remember when the doctor left, but I do know that he was gone when the hot tears of grief started pricking my eyes.

"Honda-sama, are you alright? Are you hurting? Do I need to get the doctor?" My young secretary looked down at me, panic creeping into her voice. I want to tell her that it is okay, I my tears are caused by a pain that doctor's cannot heal, but I do not know the words I should use.

"My children..." I finally whispered through cracked lips and a raw throat. Looking at the way my secretary's lips tightened in pain made it clear she understood. Unfortunately I knew, the situation was far worse than the young woman could have ever imagined.

* * *

I have never been someone who was good at asking for help, but there are some times when you don't have a choice.

It didn't take long for me to realize that I simply didn't have the resources to face the magnitude of the disaster. Japan needed the international community. So my government requested the help of five of our allied nations who had the resources and the experience needed. America, Australia, England, New Zealand, and South Korea all accepted our pleadings for help. They all gave more than they were asked for, but what shocked me was the fact that so many nations offered their support.

It hadn't been more than 15 hours since the tsunami had hit my shores and already my cell phone was overwhelmed with a steady stream of nations offering their assistance. Israel had already sent a mobile hospital to provide medical care for the most severely affected areas and Canada had offered his specialized chemical spill containment team. Even China, who had suffered a major earthquake the previous day, donated badly needed fuel and drinking water.

I had always known that the international community tended to pull together in the wake of a major national disaster, but the shear amount of support I had been offered so soon after the earthquake was overwhelming me. I simply didn't have airports, roads, and other infrastructure to utilize all that I was being offered.

"Honda-sama," my secretary interrupted as I awkwardly attempted to text America one handed. "There is a visitor here to see you."

"Please send them in," I said with a ghost of a smile on my lips.

A few hours earlier America had shot me an email telling me that he was on his way. Since WWII I have developed a very close relationship with the young nation, and right now I knew that I needed the strength of my friend to get me through the next few days. There was a soft knock at the door, and then a tall nation let themselves into my room. The only problem was the fact it wasn't the tall nation I had expected.

"Hello Kiku," the personification of Russia looked down at me, a look that was a combination of pity and a cat that just ate the canary.

"Ivan-san," I half stammered, trying to keep the shock out of my voice. "Sorry, you were not the person I expected to see. What brings you to Japan?"

"Fuel." The world's largest country simply said.

"What?" I replied still confused.

"I assume that in the wake of this disaster you will need heating oil, airplane fuel, and vehicle petrol. I have arranged to have two of Gazprom's tankers routed to Japan. They should reach you shortly."

"Thank you," I muttered in surprise. "Unfortunately, I don't know if I can accept. With the nature of the disaster, I don't know if I have the funds to be able to pay for the petroleum."

"We can work out payment later," the Slavic nation grinned.

"What about the countries that the tankers were suppose to go to? Won't they be upset about a late shipment?"

"Probably, but we can make up for the lost profit in later shipments. Gazprom will not complain because it is state-owned company, so it does what I tell it to do. Plus, you need the fuel to respond to this disaster, da?"

* * *

Over an hour later I was still a little bit shaken up by Russia's visit. It was true that I needed the fuel, but I really didn't expect that he would be the one to offer that type of help. I didn't exactly know how to express my gratitude. Luckily, America came and distracted me from that dilemma.

"Hey Kiku, how are you feeling?"

"Much better. Thank you for your concern."

"I know that hospital food is terrible, and I thought you might be hungry so I brought you something to eat."

It really was a sweet thought. Unfortunately, America and I have very, very different views on comfort food. When I am feeling sick all I really want is a nice bowl of rice and maybe some miso soup. America, on the other hand, seems to believe that McDonalds can cure everything from the common cold to cancer. As I looked at the large bag of fast food take-out, the very thought of eating that greasy American hamburgers turned my already queasy stomach.

"While I am sure that those hamburgers are lovely, my secretary just went out to grab me some lunch. I believe the soup she will be returning with will be a little bit lighter on my stomach," I tried to explain gently.

"That makes sense," America commented as he plopped himself down on one of chairs by my bedside and started to munch on a hamburger. "I probably should have thought about that before bringing you fast food, after all Hawaii and Alaska always complain about upset stomachs after they are hit by tsunamis. Oh well." The nation shrugged. "I guess that now that I am here, we should discuss what the U.S. of A can do to help Japan recover from this disaster."

Within a few minutes America had already pulled out a map and was using French fries to indicate the area he hoped to park the air carrier while motioning wildly with a half-eaten hamburger. Poor Miko-san chose that moment to arrive with my lunch. I could tell that she was startled by the very energetic, tall blond in the middle of the room. Luckily, America didn't miss a beat. He dropped the hamburgers on the chair he had claimed and immediately went to shake her hand.

"Hi, the name's Alfred, and I am here to be the hero!"

"Tanaka Miko," she replied as my ally vigorously pumped secretary's hand up and down. I realized that I would probably have to give the young woman a bonus for putting up with America, but for now, the look of complete confusion on her face was priceless.

* * *

So far there have been over a hundred aftershocks. Most of them have been tiny. Before the Great quake, I would have barely noticed them. Now, each one leaves me with an adrenalin rush. I am unable to sleep through the night. When I wake in the night, the taste of sea water that has heaved itself on land fills my mouth, the screams of those I have lost echoes in my ears. It makes me want to puke, but I normally do my best to roll over and fall back asleep so I don't disturb the person sleeping in the armchair next to my bed.

Tonight, I fully intended to follow that routine, but when I glanced at the armchair I discovered it was empty. Groggily, I tried to remember who volunteered to stay with me this night. Slowly, I realized that it was America. At first I wondered if he had ended up falling out of the chair and was currently sleeping on the floor or if he had left for a little bit to grab a bite to eat, then I realized that there was a light on in the toilet.

I glanced at the clock and realized that America had been in there a long time. Worried, I cautiously got out of bed and walked towards the door. When I pressed my ear against the wood, I realized that the nation was quietly talking on his phone. Curious, I closed my eyes and tried to listen in.

"I know that California is already on his way here, and he is going to be a whole lot of help with sorting through the rubble, but he isn't going to able to help as much with the emotional recovery. I know that this is completely different, but you are one of the only people who have experienced this type of disaster. Please, I need you here now… All right, talk to you tomorrow."

On the other side of the door I could hear America click his phone closed and tuck it into the pocket of his jacket. He then walked towards the toilet door, and I tried to scramble back to my bed before the younger nation had a chance to notice something amiss. Unfortunately, my IV drip and robes conspired against me. With a thud and a clatter I found myself in an undignified lump on the floor. The next thing I knew the lights in the room were turned on and a very concerned blond looked down on me.

"Kiku, are you okay?" America asked as he knelt down next to me, his voice full of worry.

To be honest, I lied to America. I told him that I was fine. I explained that I had woken up in the middle of the night and needed a drink of water. The Super Power didn't question me; instead, he helped me back into bed and got me a glass of water in a plastic cup.

* * *

When I mentioned to America that I would like to see the affected areas of Japan with my own eyes, I never expected all of the arrangements for the trip to be made in under an hour. Sadly, it didn't take long for me to wonder if flying north to visit the affected areas was a bad idea. The thrum of the helicopter propellers were making my head throb and it was clear that I was taking up spaces which would have been otherwise filled with more supplies to relieve the suffering of my people.

Still I had to admit that flying over the landscape was helping me gain a better understanding of the scale of the disaster. From the air, I could easily pick out the areas that the tsunami hit. Many of these areas were wiped clean of all indication of life, but when we flew over cities, the sites we saw were twisted masses of rubble instead. All tsunami-affected areas were painted a sickly grey with mud.

What I saw when I looked out to sea was just as disturbing. As far as I could see, the ocean was choked with debris. Occasionally, I could spot a Coast Guard ship searching for survivors or a fishing boat desperately trying to pick its way through the mounds of wood and clutter to reach its home port, but beyond this, all I could see was death. When I couldn't take looking out the window any longer, I buried my face in my hands.

"Kiku…" I awoke. "Kiku, I know that you need your sleep right now, but it would be really helpful if you could wake up for a bit. We kind of need someone to translate."

Groggily, I opened my eyes and looked up into a very concerned pair of blue eyes. I had to bite down an annoyed sigh. America had very odd opinions on personal space…

"Where are we?" I asked as I reached for the water bottle sitting on the seat next to me.

"Otunoato. We have been here about forty-five minutes and have gotten the whole helicopter unloaded. Honestly, I was going to let you sleep until we got back to the air carrier, but we have…"

"Where are we again?"

"Ofunoat."

"What?"

"It is some Japanese word. Listen this is apparently one of your most important foreign ports and a whole lot of people keep on telling me about the fish." As the blond nation gave the additional details, I finally figured out where we were.

"Ofunato?"

"Yeah, that's the one." America nodded brightly, then continued to chatter. "Anyway, there is a bunch of shelters which have been set up where ever there is space, but apparently they have been having engineering problems with one of the temporary shelters and want help fixing it. Unfortunately, none of my people speak good enough Japanese to figure out exactly what they want, and, honestly your peoples' English stinks."

"So you need me to translate?"

"Exactly!"

* * *

It turned out that the backup generator at one of the primary schools had broken. After a brief discussion, America decided that a helicopter would head south to pick up another load of supplies. America and three Marines would remain behind to see what they could do to help, I would stay and translate.

I am glad that I stayed. Being on the ground at one of the shelters showed me the resilience of my people. Yes, there were thousands of people who were left homeless by the tsunami, but they were doing their best to comfort each other. In the schoolyard, children were playing a game of tag; in the cafeteria, there were women of all ages working serving soup and rice out of large pots; in one of the classrooms, two old women were hanging damaged photos up to dry. When I asked them what they were doing, they said they were rescuing people's memories from the sea water.

The sense of community was not limited to the people living in shelters. Many of the townspeople whose houses survived the disaster came to offer what they had to the individuals who had lost everything. I saw old men bringing their best spare quilts to keep others warm. I saw young children giving away their favorite toys to little boys or girls who had lost everything.

After finishing the repairs to the schools generator, we were asked to help look through the ruined city in search of survivors. We had another two hours before the helicopter would come so we agreed to help pick through a few buildings. In the damaged city I could hear men already talking about rebuilding, as they dug through the rubble. Hearing those conversations gave me hope.

For the first time since the tsunami first hit my shore, I could feel a true smile playing on the edges of my lips, but then out of the corner of my eye I saw something that made my heart stop cold. It was a small hill rising out of the rubble with a broken rock on top of it. It was easy to see that wave had over topped the hill, but I didn't want to believe it. I ran as fast as my broken body would allow me, only pausing when I reached the top. The shrine that should have been there was gone…

"Kiku…what is going on?" America asked, clearly worried by my behavior.

"This was one of the evacuation sites," I whispered my heart heavy with pain. "This was supposed to be a place safe from the tsunami, but it wasn't."

For a long period of time the two of us stood on that water-swept knoll, then my ally spoke with quiet sympathy. "Take your time. The chopper doesn't leave for another half-hour."

I stood on that small hill for a short eternity, trying to take everything in. The stench of decay was strong in the cold winter air. The sight of destruction was overwhelming, but the most crushing thing of all was the realization that I had failed my people, that despite all of my efforts to prepare for tsunamis, not all of my tsunami evacuation sites had been save from the wave of water. Untold people had run to these places, only to be drowned there. I, the nation of Japan, hadn't been strong enough to save them.

"Alfred-kun…your people are going to continue to stand by us through this disaster."

"Of course, we will. We're the heroes," America said with an enthusiastic conviction, then he placed his large hands on my shoulder and quietly voiced, "I've got your back, buddy. Don't forget that."

As we turned from the ruined shrine, the only thought in my mind was that I couldn't face this disaster alone.

* * *

_**Endnote-**__ We must not forget…_


	2. Part 2: Darkness

_**Author's Note-**__ Hey everyone. Thank you so much for everyone who left reviews for the last chapter and welcome to the next one. As you read through this post you will realize that things are not written as linear as most of my other writings. This is primarily due to the interviews I was able to do. Everyone I spoke to about what happened during the two month period covered in this chapter explained that it was a time of high emotions. It was very hard for them to focus on anything for long because of the fear, anger, confusion, and grief they were working through. I hope that you will be able to sense the depth of these emotions as you read._

* * *

**Part 2- Darkness**

* * *

There are no cherry blossoms in Kyoto; instead, the streets are filled with darkness and swirling snow. It is the Higashiyama Hanatoro, a time to celebrate life, family, and romances. It is impossible to celebrate these things when so many of Japanese people have just lost everything. So the city is dark. The city is on another power grid so their sacrifice does not directly help the people of the disaster stricken north, but the money not spent on power is being sent to help the destroyed communities rebuild. This is only one example of how the nation of Japan mourns.

The nightmares have been getting worse. It has gotten to the point that I am now afraid to close my eyes because of the images that flash through my mind. Over and over, I am forced to relive the last moments of my citizens. The feelings of fear and pain are so intense that I am lucky to capture a few minutes of sleep each night. I know that exhaustion will eventually catch up with me, but I can't help hoping it will not be any time soon.

I am not the only one who is suffering from lack of a goodnight sleep. In the dark of the night I can hear Tohoku crying out in fear and hear Kanto's quiet sobs from the next room over. I can feel my regions hurting, but I am rapidly becoming too weak to be of much help. My resources are rapidly being depleted and my economy has all but shutdown. I do not know how much longer I can hold on.

There is the newest wound… It is a pink, raw, festering wound of a type that I have only experienced a few times. Radiation - that is poisoning my land. It is centered on the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant and threatening to become a second Chernobyl. I am afraid.

* * *

Ever since I was forced to open my borders to western society, I have been fascinated by the saying, "Bad things happen in threes." In Japan, the number three has never been particularly unlucky; instead, the number four should be avoided, because four is pronounced the same way as death… and right now I think it is an apt connection. My country is currently facing not one deadly disaster, but four. Of these, the earthquake actually appears to have done the least damage. While most of the world's seismologists consider this to be the largest earthquake that has ever hit Japan, and possibly ranked among the ten largest earthquakes ever measured on planet Earth, the damage from it is remarkably low. Yes, most of the older buildings around town are sporting new cracks and a few hundred buildings throughout country were severely damaged by the earthquake, but most of the structures in Japan were still standing when the ground stopped shaking.

Only the nation's infrastructure was left broken by the earthquake. The power grid in Tohoku is shot and so is the water delivery system. The roads on the northern part of the island are undrinkable and the train tracks are now twisted hunks of metal. Landslides and avalanches blocked mountain roads. A dam failed and flooded the communities downstream. Communities are isolated from the rest of the world, but overall the death toll from the actual earthquake was relatively low. Currently, scientists estimate only a couple hundred people were injured by the actual earthquake and under a hundred people were killed by it.

Then, the second disaster hit. The tsunami swept over my northeast coastline with a ferocity I never dreamt of. The dirty water swallowed everything its path and left nothing but tangled debris and ocean mud in its wake. Out of the four disasters, this was the rapid killer. In an instant, the ocean claimed thousands of lives… and I'm not sure how many individuals the jealous sea will return to me for a proper burial…

The third disaster is a much quieter killer. Winter has chased away the first signs of spring and intermittent snow covers the landscape. Now General Winter stocks my refugee camps, preying on people with weakened immune systems and broken bodies. In the rubble I feel trapped survivors slowly succumb to the elements. In a way, losing these people to the cold hurts worse than the ones I lost to the tsunami. At least the tsunami was a quick death instead of the prolonged hell that too many of the survivors are currently forced to endure.

Then, there is the fourth disaster…

"Kiku, are you alright?" My thoughts were interrupted by England's softly accented voice. I look up from my notes, my allies staring at me in concern.

"I am deeply sorry… I guess I must have dozed off."

"It's okay." Pity was clear in America's blue eyes. "I know that this disaster is taking a toll on your resources. We can take a break and come back later if you need to rest."

"It's alright. The sooner we deal with this nuclear crisis the better."

* * *

It is amazing how quickly a nation's opinion of you can change… Not too long ago America was pulling out all of the stops to make sure that I was okay. Now that there is an active nuclear incident occurring in my country it feels like his people are abandoning me. I know he says that the evacuations of American citizens is optional, that evacuating American civilian military dependants from Japan will increase the resources available for the earthquake recovery effort, but it still seems like he is fleeing just when I need him most.

Sadly, I can't blame many of these people from leaving. They are people who clearly do not care enough about Japan to make it home. They are foreigners who run from the situation as soon as the going is tough. In Tokyo, we have a new word for these people, flygin.

So much for international support…

* * *

"Kiku, a bunch of us have been talking and we really think that you should allow us to transfer Tohoku to the U.S. for treatment."

I closed my eyes and take a deep breath to calm myself down to keep from glaring at America. "Why do you think I am unable to care for one of my own children?"

"He didn't say that," England said, defending him. The American said nothing; he just looked like I had kicked him.

"Why do you think that Tohoku should be sent halfway around the world for medical treatment when he could get everything he needs here?"

"Because he can't get everything here." The blond refused to meet my eyes as he spoke. "Your medical system is swamped. Your resources are stretched to their breaking point. In America, we are free of the crises that you currently face. You know that we have one of the premier facilities for the treatment of national personifications. You know that I can offer him all of the treatments you cannot currently give Tohoku. I know you care deeply for your regions, but right now allowing someone else to take care of him will be better for all parties involved."

I had to say yes. I hate when America wins our arguments.

* * *

"Kiku… we have been in dialog."

As soon as America starts to speak I can't help but cringe. I can't help but wonder what more that the superpower wants me to give up.

"Kiku, it has been two week since the disaster began and the search for survivors has ended. Your condition has stabilized, which means it is time for you to go home."

"What are you saying?" I asked, trying to wrap my head around what America was trying to tell me.

"What I am saying is that medically, staying in the hospital is not going to improve your health. Mentally, staying in the hospital is turning you into a train wreck. I have been working with Ms. Miko to figure out an alternative course of treatment and we decided that sending you up to your safe house in Tsukuba was our best option." I must have had a funny look on my face because America suddenly started to look uncomfortable. "We've arranged for a nurse to stop by your house twice a day to make sure that everything is okay, and I've got one of my states up there right now to set up all of the electronics so you can Skype into all of your national and international meetings. I even got permission from my boss to head up there with you to make sure you settle in."

"You mean that I'm leaving the hospital?" I was still trying to absorb what had just been said.

"Yes."

"Kanto?"

"He's coming with you, of course," America said with one of his bright grins, and I relaxed. It will be really good to get out of here.

* * *

Of all states that America could choose to send to my house in Tsukuba, I am not particularly sure why he decided to pick Alaska but there she was when we drove into the driveway. Yes, it is true that she had a lot of earthquakes. Yes, she is one of the only places on earth which has experienced and earthquake worse than the one Great East Japan Earthquake…but it is also true that Alaska is the only state that I invaded during WWII. I was only able to capture a few of the most western Aleutian Islands and only bombed one major town, but fifty years later Alaska is still dealing with the scars.

My only comfort in the situation is that Kanto and Miko-san seem to like her. This afternoon Alaska has entertained Kanto by knitting scarves and little stuffed animals. She has also humored all of Miko-san's questions about it is like to live in America. She even took Pochi-kun on a walk. Yes, she is very stiff and military, but she also has a vibrant personality. When I walk into the room, things changed. The state suddenly becomes quiet and subdued. It makes me wonder if she still hates me…

* * *

Alaska and I have been in the same house for just three days, and I am now convinced that the state hates me. Most of the time I never see her because she seems to sleep and conference calls with the states all night. I know that she does this in order to make sure that I have the latest USGS reports every morning, but it is strange to never see one of your houseguests.

Well, I can't say that I _never_ see Alaska. Every once in a while I will walk into a room and feel like I am being watched. Usually I will turn and see the state trying to escape through the door. Now that America is packing up to head back home to the US, I am terrified the frictions between the state and I are just going to get worse. It's not like I actually need a babysitter. Perhaps, I could convince the Super Power I am ready to be on my own…

"Are you sure that you do not need Alaska somewhere else?" I tried to broach the subject with as much tact as possible.

"Yep," Alfred grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "I cleared her schedule for the next two months and if you want her longer I can see if we can extend her stay."

"Are you sure she needs to be here that long? I really don't want to be an inconvenience."

"I would do anything for my best friend," he said patting me on the shoulder. As America walked away, the only thought in my mind was how dense the younger nation could be.

* * *

The night that America left, I awoke to the sound of the rocks and he house groaning under the strain of the earth shifting. I heard Kanto give a sharp cry of fear in the next room, but when I tried to stand to comfort him, another tremor hit. The movement was violent enough that I didn't think I could stand and walk across the room without injuring myself further. That left me only one option - to curl up on my futon in the middle of my room and wait for the earth to stop rocking.

The earthquake ended a few seconds later, but I it took a few moments for my heart to stop pounding. Shakily, I got to my feet and crossed the house to the room which my region was staying in. When I slid open the door, I found Alaska was already there.

She looked a bit like an angel in Italian art. Her pale hair draped around her body, the moonlight playing across it, making the strains look more silver than the soft dove grayish brown it held in normal light. The state's delicate fingers played across Kanto's scalp. Her hands gently massaging it as she sang words I couldn't understand. I slowly made my way into the room and she placed a slender finger to her lips. When the song finished, I realized why. Kanto had been lulled back into much needed sleep. The state then stood and quietly padded her way out of the room and into the hall. I followed her. When the door shut, she finally spoke.

"I need some tea," the state said, her shoulders sagging with fatigue.

Wordlessly, the two of us made our way to the kitchen where she pulled out two kettles. With grace and precision, she started to prepare tea. Peculiar tea bag out of one of her uniform's pockets. It was made of paper in the shape of an envelope. As I sat in one of the chairs in the kitchen, she took a few leaves from the envelope and poured boiling over water over them. Eventually a dark colored brew was produced. When she appeared satisfied by the color, she removed the tea bag and poured a portion of the liquid into two mugs. She then diluted the dark liquid with boiling water from the second kettle. She presented me with one of the mugs before settling herself in another chair and sipping from her own mug.

"It looks like you have questions," Alaska stated quietly after a few moments of silence. I must have done a very good impression of a fish, because she gave an odd smile and continued to speak. "I know you have a very advanced tea culture, but the way you watched my tea preparation tells me you have never had a good cup of postman's tea."

"I never realized that America had such advanced tea traditions."

"He doesn't." The state said with a wry smile as she took another sip. "Oh yes, America drinks tea. He drinks green tea when he is feeling fat and herbal tea when he wants to go to sleep. He also drinks that hideous southern sweet tea, but he doesn't have a tea culture per say. Postman's tea is a Russian art."

"Which you obtained when you were a Russian colony?"

"Yes, and I kept it because tea preparation calms my nerves."

"Was the song you were singing also Russian?"

"No…" Alaska replied, her gaze distant. "It is a lullaby that my grandmother sang to me when I was hurting, and my voice holds none of the old magic, but I thought it might help."

"I think it did," I said quietly as I realized it was the little things that helped heal broken souls.

* * *

When I awoke the next morning, I was surprised to find a small stack of papers sitting just outside my bedroom door. I looked down the hall and discovered that there were similar piles in front of Kanto and Miko-san's rooms. Curious, I picked up the sheets of paper and started to flip through them. It turns out they were a series of maps of the affected areas. The labels were in English, so I assumed that they must have been dropped off by a member of the American team earlier that day.

My stomach grumbled, and I realized that I need to eat something before I became too engrossed with the new data set. I padded quietly downstairs to the kitchen with the intent of making breakfast but discovered someone had already beaten me to the task. Alaska didn't notice me when I walked in. She had a pair of headphones in and was humming along with the music so she continued vigorously chopping green onions. When she finished, she glanced up and noticed me in the doorway.

"Oh," the state commented in surprise, "sorry I didn't think you would be up so early. Breakfast won't be done for another ten or fifteen minutes."

I probably should have come up with a polite response, but when you just experienced the worst natural disaster in your nation's history and you suddenly discover that an America state has just taken over your kitchen, sometimes polite conversation eludes you. "Do you ever sleep?"

"America didn't send me to sleep." The state said with a shrug as she took a sip of coffee and moved to stir a pot on the stove top. "Besides when a disaster hits, I tend to be a catnapper anyway."

Well, it appeared that I wouldn't get a direct answer, so I tried a different question. "What are you doing?"

"Making breakfast," Alaska said cheerfully. "At least I think this is supposed to be what you make for breakfast. Honestly, I couldn't read any of your cookbooks, and Wikipedia wasn't as helpful as I hoped so I'm kind of winging it."

It showed. I have never consumed miso soup with potatoes and hot sauce in it… nor had I ever met a person who tried to make rice without adding water to it. Luckily, Alaska has a sense of humor so she wasn't too humiliated when I pointed out her mistakes. The two of us cleaned the kitchen before Kanto and Miko-san woke up. When they did, the four of us ended up eating cornflakes for breakfast.

Now, I am currently at JAXA being briefed on the timeline of repairs for our space facilities. I know that America has offered to provide all of the ground control and support that the Japanese section of the International Space Station needs to function properly, but I don't want to use NASA's resources for too long. Japan maybe in the worst crisis that we have experienced since WWII, but we won't get out of it if we stop looking towards the future.

Also… a mental note to self. I must to teach Alaska how to make rice properly while she is staying in my household. She is almost two hundred years old, and I am shocked she has managed to avoid learning such a basic skill this long.

* * *

After the morning of the botched breakfast, Alaska and I started to create a relationship with a very interesting dynamic. It was true we are still awkward around each other most of the time. I never know what to say around her, and she refuses to look me directly in the eye, but when we are in the kitchen, we move with the grace of the Sparrow Dance. Slowly I have been teaching Alaska how to cook traditional Japanese food, and she has been teaching me the art of making Postman's tea.

Now when I am awakened by an aftershock, I go down to the kitchen. So far, Alaska has always beaten me there and already has a kettle on the stove to boil. We hold a simple, pointless conversation or I simply listen to her quiet humming until the water is ready. Then we drink tea. Sometimes, if it is a big earthquake Kanto or Miko-san will join us. When they do, we put on some popular music and joke about silly rituals to ward off our demons. When it is just Alaska and I, we just sit quietly… until today…

Today, I have questions. Today, I want to know why America decided that out of his 50 states, Alaska should be the one sent to be my company during this time of trial. There has to be a reason, because while many nations consider America to be a fool, I know he isn't. In the wake of this disaster, I knew he wouldn't do something randomly.

"Why you?"

"What?" the state asked as her head cocked like a bird to one side.

"Why out of all of the states, did America send you? It is not that I don't appreciate you being here, but out of all the states why would you be the most qualified? You are the one known for ice and snow, not earthquakes…" I shut my mouth after realizing I had spoken far more than intended.

Alaska gave me a sad smile as she looked into her glass of tea. "That sounds like something California would say. In a way I guess it is true. There are many places in the United States that have earthquakes -Utah, Nevada, Colorado, Washington. All of them have earthquakes on a regular basis. California is perhaps the most vocal about his earthquakes, and his quakes have been the most deadly that the United States has experienced so far, but they are dwarfed by the number and magnitude that have occurred at my home. In the average month, I experience over 1,000 earthquakes… According to my math that is about eleven percent of the world's total earthquakes."

"Why?" I pushed, not accepting her ramblings as an answer.

"Because I am the only state that has any clue what you are going through. Kiku, Japan… you have joined a very small club. You have now experience an earthquake on a scale that most people can't even imagine." She closed her eyes as she spoke, her slender gloved hands stroked a barely visible scar that graced her collar bone. "You have seen the sea swallow the land, and you know the terror of failing to protect your own people."

"You don't have to talk about this if you don't want to." I offered quietly. Alaska looked on with pained eyes.

"I think that this is the time and the place to talk… Do you remember the mega quake that hit Alaska in 1964?" I nodded my head, and she continued to talk. "According to the calculations preformed by all of the world's seismologists that is one of the only earthquakes that had a magnitude larger than yours. There are only three countries who have gone through earthquakes worse than yours, and mine was the only one to spawn a tsunami that dwarfs yours. I was lucky. My death toll could have been so much higher, but I understand the fear that your people are currently feeling. I know what it is like to feel your heart stop every time the earth moves…"

"How long does it take? How long will I feel this ache?" I can't keep myself from pleading.

"Honestly?" Alaska gave a short mirthless bark of a laugh. "Decades… and the memory… I don't know if they ever fully fade." Then she paused thoughtfully for a few moments before looking me in the eye for the first time since she came into my home. "But you can use the memory to make you stronger. You can remember all that you have lost and build a strong, better, more beautiful Japan in the honor of every person that the ocean took from you."

It was then my turn to be bitter. "How can I forget the citizens I failed to keep safe?"

"So, that is what has been eating at you?" She cocked her head to one side.

"What do you mean?"

"Ever since I got here I could tell that there was something that was slowly cankering your soul, and now I understand what it is. You blame yourself for the fact that some of the tsunami evacuation points were inundated and the people who sought shelter there killed."

"Of course, I feel guilty. It is my fault…"

"No it's not," Alaska interrupted my ramblings.

"But…" I tried to counter and was interrupted again.

"Have you ever experienced an earthquake or tsunami of this magnitude?"

"No, but…"

"Did any seismologist on the planet believe that Japan would ever be hit by an earthquake of this size?"

"No, but…"

"Have your geologists ever found evidence of a tsunami of this magnitude hitting your shore?"

"No, but…"

"Listen, based on the answers you just gave me, you did everything right," Alaska said, leaning back in her chair. "You created tsunami evacuation sites based on the places that have survived all the waves of the past. You look did this by looking at your detailed historical records and by studying geology, but there is a first time for everything…"

"Those are just convenient excuses…" I muttered harshly.

"I don't view them as excuses. I call them facing the facts. I know that I lost significantly less people than you did, but I do know a thing or two about survivors' guilt." Alaska spoke slowly, her voice filled with grief. "I spent weeks trying to think how I could have done things differently. Bit by bit it was tearing me apart, leaving me incapable of moving forward. I stopped living. Then a close friend reminded me that there were a whole lot of things that were beyond my control… that I could have easily destroy myself if I tried to control them but not actually gain any benefit. He helped me to let go and rebuild."

"Who helped you?"

"The Yukon Territory," she said fondly.

"Is this why America sent you?" I pressed.

"Yes…" she nodded quietly. "During the week he stayed by your side in the hospital he saw how broken you had become and he didn't know how to comfort you, so he sent one of the only people he knew who had shared your experience."

Alaska smiled sadly, and I gaze into the fire in her eyes. Now, I understood why America sent her. While any state could have typed up daily briefings and helped tidy around the house, only one could show me what a broken person I had become. Only one could have told me the words that I needed to hear. And while I had known I would rebuild, I now know that I must remember to rebuild, not only, for living but to honor the memory of those I lost.

* * *

Change is difficult. Learning to let go of the grief and pain of thousands of your citizens is a particularly difficult task, but I have slowly been able to do it. I admit that I still find myself cringing when the earth shakes, and I sometimes wake in the middle of the night with my mouth tasting of sea water. I do my best not to dwell on those moments of weakness; instead, I try to focus on my rebuilding effort.

There are still many unknowns. We do not know when the nuclear reactor in Fukushima will be stabilized, nor do we know how much of our nation's food and water supplies have been contaminated by radiation. I still don't know when or if we will ever find the thousands of missing people or when I will be able to give the bodies we have recovered a proper burial. I am doing my best not to be shackled by these unknowns, because I know the answers will eventually come. Just like winter eventually turns into spring.

"Do you think that there is any hope of finding any of the missing people still alive?" It's a warm mid-April afternoon, and everyone living in my home has been spending it outside in the garden. I'm sitting in the shade of a trellis, while Alaska and Kanto install a new solar panel. Up until this point, Alaska has been entertaining my region with stories of dog sledding. Due to this fact Kanto's question startled me enough to causes me to look up from my book.

"No." Alaska replied, setting down her hammer and nails.

"But there are so many of them," his voice spoke hollowly.

"I know."

"How could you possibly know?"

"Because I have had my share of tsunamis; in fact, I am one of the only places on the planet which has experienced tsunamis larger than yours," she said, gentle ruffling the region's hair.

Kanto looked thoughtfully for a few moments, then spoke again, "Can I ask you another question?"

"Sure."

"Do you have penguins in Alaska?"

"Remind me never to ask you about geography," Alaska shook her head trying to stifle a laugh. "Please pass me another nail."

"Samantha, the phone is for you," Miko called from the kitchen.

Alaska went to answer the call, while Kanto tried to figure out the wiring for the solar panel, and I went back to reading.

* * *

The next day I searched the house looking for Alaska, only to find a note telling me that she had been called away on another mission. America called me later in the day and explained that he had called the state away for a top secret mission that only she was capable of. He said that he had already sent Texas to take over Alaska duties, and I politely thanked him. I didn't tell America that Alaska's sudden disappearance hurt. I had found her presence in my household over the last month to be comforting. I also didn't admit that I wasn't sure I wanted another American state shoved into my home, regardless of the good intentions.

* * *

_**Endnote- **__We will stand together…_


	3. Part 3: Dawn

_**Author's Note**__-Hey, sorry for taking so long to get you the next chapter. School and research kind of swallowed my life. I know that the last chapter kind of ended on a dark note. I hope that this chapter can end with the positivity of the dawning sun. But before we get to the story itself, a few quick shout outs. Thank you to TheNSIGirl, Mofalle, and Kishima91 for leaving a review._

* * *

**Part 3- Dawn**

It has only taken me two hours to determine that I prefer Alaska's company to that of Texas. America's largest state knows how to enjoy silence…it is a trait that the second largest state has yet to discovered. Also, he apparently hasn't figured out how to use the internet to figure out cultural differences.

So far he has taken a bath while dirty (_which meant will have to spend a whole afternoon draining and cleaning the tub)_, retrieved the mail shirtless (_I will need to give the neighbors some cakes as an apology for that)_, and tried to make steak for every meal. Add that to the fact he never takes his shoes off when he enters the house, and I am almost ready to pull my hair out in frustration…now if only I could figure out a polite way to inform Texas that he is driving me crazy…I will have to meditate on that.

* * *

After a lot of thought, I realized there was only one way to convince America that Texas does not have to be here. I needed to return to Tokyo and get back to my regular life. I have spent the week making all of the arrangements, but I am finally here. As I watch Kanto sink happily into the padded armchair in the office, I can't help but relax. It feels so good to be home.

* * *

Moving back to Tokyo was a good idea, but I have to admit that all of the work that has been piled onto my plate has left me exhausted. It has been two months since the earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear disaster. I have thousands of people who are homeless, and I am struggling to figure out how I will feed my population because sixty percent of my fishing fleet was damaged beyond repair. I don't have the power to manufacture the goods that I normally export. I have hundreds of domestic issues to deal with, but right now the only thing that the international community really cares about is the one power plant that is critically damaged.

I am tired of being told that I was foolish to have a nuclear power plant so close to an active fault line, but, honestly, the fault wasn't the problem. I know this because the nuclear power plant which was the closest to the earthquake epicenter was able to shutdown without any problems; in fact, of the four nuclear plants that were severely shaken, only one was in critical condition and that was primarily due to flooding because of the tsunami. An earthquake caused the tsunami that was higher than any in my recorded geologic record – a tsunami which every seismologist agrees was statistically improvability.

I don't know how I will ever repair Japan's damaged international reputation, and I don't understand why so many countries have started to hold the opinion my domestic government is partially at fault for the deaths of my citizens. So many nations are acting like I purposely caused the nuclear radiation leak. Now, while expatriates from around the world are fleeing my shores, it seems like every national personification wants to become involved in my business. To be fair, I did ask a few of them, such as America and South Korea, for help but everyone else was not really asked…why can't they understand that in times of natural disaster the help they give should not come with the burden of baseless accusations?

* * *

I try to do my best not to hate other nations…I make an exception for Russia. I do not deny that each country is unique and each one of them brings diversity to the world, but I am not sure the world really needed the political, social, and environmental mess that is the Russian Federation. Yes, I know that we are neighbors, but a long history of botched interactions has left a very sour taste in my mouth...a taste which has only seemed to get worse in the wake of the earthquake last March.

I know that many nations think that my current disagreement with Russia is absurd. They do not understand why I would abject to someone providing aid to my country. They do not understand that very few countries give something and not expect something in return. This is especially true for your enemies.

I did my very best to limit my commitments to nations I can never truly see eye-to-eye with. In order to protect my national sovereignty and limit future contact, I turned away a hospital ship from China. I acknowledge that the extra medical would have probably saved the lives of some of my citizens, but cost of those lives would have been too high. Even now, China is trying to encroach on some of my outer islands. I have to put on a strong face now; otherwise, I truly believe China will go to war over that.

I truly wish that I could have done something similar with Russia, but Russia was simply too brash and powerful. He ignored my requests and sent foreign search-and-rescue contingents second to the United States. I know that I should feel grateful for this, but it is difficult because, now, Russia feels entitled to inform me that this nuclear disaster is my entire fault. Imagine that! The nation, who has had more nuclear incidents than the rest of the world combined, has the nerve to accuse me of negligence.

I learned this afternoon, that, apparently, lecturing me in front of the world was not enough for Mother Russia. No, he feels as though he is entitled to play a more active role in my attempt to clean up the radioactive mess that has contaminated Fukushima Prefecture. He isn't doing it directly; instead, he is sending his sister Ukraine. It is going to take all of my nerve to be polite during her extended stay.

* * *

If I say nothing else about Ukraine I have to admit that she is very attractive. When I drove to the airport to pick her up this morning, I could easily pick her out from the crowd. Her womanly figure; simple, yet bright, clothing; and blond hair looked like a ray of sunshine on an otherwise cloudy day. I couldn't spend too much time admiring the view, though. It wasn't difficult to see that Ukraine was a bit lost and the airport personnel clearly didn't have a good idea how to help her.

"I am looking for this man…" Ukraine was flashing my picture around while she spoke using a slow heavily accented English. "He is supposed to pick me up, but he is late and I know that he has been having some really bad health issues, so I am kind of worried that he might have gotten into some trouble or something like…Kiku!"

The moment that the Slavic nation noticed my approach, she ran towards me and enveloped me in a very vigorous hug. I couldn't help blushing as every person in the entire airport appeared to stop and stare at us. The airport's attendants clearly didn't approve of the public display off affection but seemed relieved that the odd foreigner was finally off their hands.

After a few moments, Ukraine finally loosened her grip on me, enough that I was finally able to breathe again. As she sobbed in relief on my shoulder, I knew I needed to give an explanation of her behavior to the officials that had been helping her. I quietly explained to the airport attendants she was my cousin, coming to check on me because I had been injured in the recent tsunami. I explained that I still had a member of the household still in the hospital fighting for their life. I explained that Ukraine had volunteered to help us unpack our lives in Tokyo.

As I spoke, I watch the expressions of the people around me soften. No longer was Ukraine a hysterical foreigner. Now, they saw her as woman who had travelled a great distance to help rebuild a family destroyed by natural disaster. They were still uncomfortable with her open expression of affection, but they were now willing to overlook that.

"Are you alright?" I whispered into her ear, using language that only nation's speak. She hiccupped and nodded. "Good let's go then. The car is waiting for us."

* * *

"What are you reading?"

It took all of my self discipline to keep from jumping out of my seat. I must have been far more tired than I originally thought to allow Ukraine to sneak up on me like that.

"Government reports." I replied levelly.

"About what?" Ukraine asked.

One of her hands gentle rested on my shoulder, the other pressed against the desk as she leaned forward to peer down at the stack of papers I was reading. We both know that she can't read a word of kanji, but that still doesn't stop her from being curious. She bends in close enough for me to feel the warmth of her skin, to smell the rich scent of newly tilled dark soil and fresh baked bread. She doesn't realize it, but I don't have the energy to deal with the closeness right now. She has no clue how much I hate to be touched. I bit down a sigh and gathered up the papers so I could tuck them back into my desk.

"They are reports about Fukushima." I said quietly, then took a shuttering breath before continuing. "We have been testing every bit of food that that prefecture produces, and we just got some bad news. The rice harvest has been contaminated. Thousands of acres and hundreds of people will be severely affected by this. My government has done everything in its power to limit the impact of this nuclear disaster, but I feel trapped. How can I compensate the victims of this disaster? How can I tell farmers who have tended a plot of land for generations that their land has been contaminated and must lay fallow for decades?"

I spoke until I ran out of words and the depressing weight of my nation's current situation crushed down on me. My breath caught in my throat and tears began to prick the edges of my eyes. I tried to swallow my grief, but I couldn't keep a low mournful whimper from escaping my lips. Instantly, I hated myself for that. I was Japan, I was supposed to be stronger than this.

"Shhh," Ukraine wrapped her arms around me and cradled me as the sobs shook me. "Shhh, everything is going to be alright. Things aren't going to be fixed by tomorrow or probably not in the next few years, but your people are survivors. I can't imagine how much you are hurting. I have only experienced a nuclear disaster. I have never know massive earthquakes or tsunamis, but I know how painful radiation can be. I know how helpless it must make you feel."

Ukraine continued to talk, her lyrical voice speaking softly in my ear, but I didn't hear what was being said. She held me until I finally fell asleep.

* * *

I hate to admit it, but I think that having Ukraine come to my home and stay has been possibly as useful as having Alaska around. It helps to know that someone has been through a worse nuclear disaster and has come out the other side a vibrant strong nation. Somehow it takes the sting of the situation away. Perhaps it is simply because I feel more grounded when I know that I am not alone, but I suspect it may be more than that.

All nations know that we are often strengthened by proximity. We know that the pain and suffering of an ally can be reduced when we are there to share the burden. We know that a national personification brings comfort to the territories, states, and regions it protects. I am now suspecting that common experience may also create a bond between nations.

"Honda-sama," Miko-san said timidly as she knocked on my office door.

"Come in," At my call the secretary bowed and as she entered my office. Gracefully she placed a large parcel on my desk.

"An official from the American Embassy just delivered this package. I assume that you would want to look at the contents immediately."

"Yes, thank you Miko-san for your consideration."

The young woman dismissed herself, and I turned my attention to the box on my desk. To be honest, I was a bit confused. I thought that the package was possibly a stack of diplomatic messages, but when I opened it, I found a card and a large shape wrapped with tissue paper. I had no major gift giving holidays in the month of June, and America's birthday was eleven days away, so I was perplexed. Finally, I decided that the simplest way to figure out what was going on would be to read the card.

_Hey Kiku,_

_As you have probably figured out, the reason I had to leave at short notice was related to the operation to take out Osama Bin Laden. The terrorist has been the boogieman of a generation of American's and so Alfred thought it would be best if there was direct oversight. Unfortunately, once he got me back into my military role, he kind of insisted that I help monitor the Arab Spring. I have been stationed in Libya for three weeks now, and I am already really sick of the sand. _

_Despite the fact I spend most of my days being shot at, I have been able to keep up with what is going on in your neck of the woods. I just heard that your earthquake was official rated as a 9.0. That means that you are tied with the Kamchatka earthquake of 1952 for the fourth largest measured earthquake. Congrats, you are officially in the top ten! _

_In this package I have included a little gift from the six nations that are already in the club. We hope that you will enjoy it and always remember that you are the Land of the Rising Sun. _

_Best wishes on rebuilding,_

_Samantha Wasilla Jones_

I sat the note aside and pulled the tissue paper in the box apart. What I saw took my breath away. Gingerly, I lifted the blanket out of the box and spread it out on the floor. It took a few minutes for me to move everything out of the way so that it could lay flat. When I finally did, I could see the full pattern. I felt tears pricking the edges of my eyes.

The blanket was handcrafted with a striking black border of Russian wool. One-quarter of it was patterned with waves in vivid indigo Indonesian silk, the rest was knitted made in sky blue Linen from Tibet. The caps on the waves were pure white Ecuadorian cotton and the details of the clouds were made with nearly silver Alaskan Qiviut, but the thing that stood out most was the symbol across the center of the work of art. It was a sun knitted from a warm red-orange dyed Chilean Alpaca, rising out of the silk sea. Its meaning was clear. All six of the nations which had survived, at least, one of the world's ten largest earthquakes were reminding me that Japan would rise again.

* * *

Through most of my existence, I have not been one who focused on outward strength. The key to the Japanese people's survival has been discipline and innovation. I can't afford to be so narrow minded now. I will never be as physically strong as America, but I can become the strongest version of myself possible.

My strivings to become stronger is the reason my feet are thumping rhythmically on the treadmill. My lungs burn and my body aches, but I push myself to take that next step. Ever though I am in pain, I know that each mile I run will bring me closer to my goal. Just like every power plant we shut down will bring Japan closer to being a nuclear-free nation.

* * *

It takes a fair amount of effort to convince America that I am prepared to bring Tohoku home. We both know that once my damaged region has been returned to my shore that I will do everything in my power to make sure he fully recovers. I know that America wonders if I am currently strong enough to offer that level of support. Despite my greatest ally's doubts, I know I need to care for Tohoku. I need my country to become whole again. After a month-and-a -half of me nagging my friend, America finally relented. My wounded child returns home today.

* * *

It is difficult to see one of your children so broken. Every time I look at Tohoku with his arms and legs still in casts and thick layers of bandages covering the ugly red radiation burns that stretch across his stomach, a part of me wants to weep. It hurts me to watch him struggle to stand on his own, only to fall in a crumpled heap on the floor. It breaks me when he cries in fear every night due to nightmares I cannot sooth.

On so many days I have wondered, if bring Tohoku home was a poor decision, and if my selfish desire to care for my damaged region was causing him undue pain. When those doubts creep into my heart, the only thing I can do is look into Tohoku eyes. Despite the fact his eyes are always filled with agony, they are also hard with determination.

Tohoku is refusing to give up, he is fighting the pain, he is rebuilding. The least I can do is support him in every way I can.

* * *

New Year's had always been an important celebration in Japan. It is a time of reflection and renewal, a time for family and good food, a time of cleansing. When I was younger, he remembered the thrill of being given mochi and mandarin oranges, but the excitement of youth had faded over time.

Now, I usually spent my New Year's working in the government offices so that other officials can spend the holiday with their families. After work, I would make my way to my apartment and greet the new year with ice cream and manga. The next day three or four of my regions would visit, and we would pay our respects at a few of the local shrines. It was a pleasant way to spend the holiday season.

Greeting 2012 was rapidly becoming a completely different experience. I had decided that he needed to take the day off this year. Tohoku was still living in my home and as the holiday approached, it was clear that the region was becoming increasingly depressed. The wounded region had spent the morning listlessly flipping through the TV channels, clearly frustrated by the fact that he was too weak to help with cleaning the house. I had done my best to cheer him up, but the stories and jokes only seemed to make the region's mood sink deeper into depression.

After a while I gave up and resigned myself to the fact that I was faced with a holiday as gloomy as the soggy weather outside. Then there was knock at my door. Curious, I peeked through the keyhole and was shocked by what I saw. On my door step was my seven other regions. For the first time in decades all eight of my regions were going to spend the entire New Year's holiday as a family.

I opened my door and each of them piled into my home. After removing their shoes at the door and stating a polite greeting, they immediately went to work. Chugoku worked to clear space in my small refrigerator so that she could fit a large tub of Kentucky Fried Chicken into it. Shikoku moved to make some tea so he could fill a line of thermoses. Kyushu busied himself with organizing the pile of sweet and savory snacks the various regions had brought, while Kansai and Chubu finished straightening up the rest of the house. As I watched in shock, Hokkaido and Kanto managed to get Tohoku bundled up and sitting comfortably in his wheelchair.

"Father, are you coming?

"Where?" I asked as I retrieved my winter's coat from the closet.

"The Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. We are going to go see the NHK Symphony Orchestra perform in 30 minutes so we better head out the door because we have got a bit of a walk."

"How?" I asked a bit stunned. The NHK Symphony Orchestra was one of the most premier classical music performing groups and tickets for their New Year's performance of the Ninth Symphony were extremely difficult to procure. I was having trouble understanding why Kanto had gone through such expense and trouble. "Why?"

"I pulled a few strings and got us some good tickets, as to why…well, 2011 was a bad year. It was hard on all of us. We were forced to face a lot of pain and devastation together. After a year like this, I thought we really needed an opportunity to make a few good memories."

I smiled and gently and patted Kanto on the shoulder. "Thank you. Your forethought makes me proud."

* * *

It has been a year since the earth shook in the most violent earthquake ever to hit Japan. Life in Northern Japan is still dealing with the aftermath. Thousands of people are still displaced. The ones who used to live in the communities near Fukushima Daiichi may never return home. We are still working on providing the over fifteen-thousand dead proper burials. Then there are still over two-thousand of my people who are missing, and I suspect their bodies have found their final resting place at the bottom of the sea.

It is those two-thousand whom we have come to the ocean to mourn this morning. The stretch of beach quiet, dark, secluded. The only sounds that can be heard are the gentle lapping of the waves on rocks, the faint whisper of an early morning breeze, and the quiet sobs of three of my regions. In the silence I stand with my eight children and a few invited guests. Then out of the blackness, there is a slight glow of pink that appears on the horizon. Without speaking each member of the group removes their shoes and wades out into the sea. Once in the water they pull out little white paper boats from their pockets. I walk from person-to-person, giving each of them a lit candle to place in the boat. Once they are sure the little craft is stable, they place it in the water and allow the ocean to pull it out to sea. When all twenty boats are released, we stand, watching the tiny fleet of white paper bob on the ocean surface until it slowly slips below the surface of the water - only then do we turn our backs to the sunrise and walk back to the waiting line of cars.

Despite all of the efforts to clean the beaches, it is still easy to see little fragments of shattered lives. Little torn pieces of plastic and wood are scatter among the rocks and seaweed. A half a world away, on the other side of the Pacific Ocean I know another form of clean up is just beginning. Fragments of the floating mats of debris are slowly washing up on the shores of Alaska. It is only a matter of time before more rubble washes onshore along the western coast of North America. Both America and Canada promise that when this happens, the wreckage will be treated with upmost respect.

"So," America says thoughtfully. "Who is up to getting some breakfast? I'm starved."

"You're always starved!" England said, slugging the Super Power in the arm.

"It's not my fault I have an incredibly healthy economy," America countered, then winked at me, and I understood what he was doing. He was reminding me that while it was important to remember to mourn, I should never forget to live. I let go of a breath I didn't realize I had been holding and gave the first genuine laugh in a year.

"Well, we better go find you some food before you starve-to-death," I said with a smile, and we loaded into the black government vehicles.

Driving south I couldn't help but reflect on the last year. Here in Japan we use to think that our resilience made us able to survive the worst disaster that elements could throw at us. March 11, 2011 changed everything. It proved that the Japanese people were up the challenge.

* * *

_**Endnote**__- We will rebuild Japan…_


End file.
